


Absentia

by HephaistionsThighs



Category: Sunshine (2007)
Genre: Ableist Language, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Everybody Lives, M/M, Major Illness, Post-Mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 18:59:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1952478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HephaistionsThighs/pseuds/HephaistionsThighs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s learned that it’s better sometimes to just let it pass, to let Capa calm down and stabilize on his own, and trying to “solve” it, trying to get Capa to understand that he’s not making sense, sometimes only makes it worse and makes it last longer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absentia

"Just get the fuck out!"

And Mace does get the fuck out, he hurriedly exits the house and lets Capa slam the door behind him.  Because he’s learned that it’s better sometimes to just let it pass, to let Capa calm down and stabilize on his own, and trying to “solve” it, trying to get Capa to understand that he’s not making sense, sometimes only makes it worse and makes it last longer.

It hurts, still.  It used to hurt because he didn’t understand why Capa would get so angry at him over _nothing_ , he didn’t deserve being yelled at, he didn’t deserve being pushed away or ignored.  He used to think that Capa was just being an asshole or that it was his own fault that Capa was so unhappy.

Now it hurts because it’s out of his control.  It’s out of Capa’s control.  They can manage it - pills and charts and monitors and therapy - but they can’t make it simply stop.  Mace understands now that Capa isn’t doing this to him, to their marriage.  It’s something being done to Capa, and Mace can’t make it stop, and that hurts.

Mace lingers on the sidewalk, he doesn’t actually leave the premises.  He knows he’s not supposed to leave Capa alone.  Shortly after the diagnosis, he left once to get groceries, and came back to find Capa unresponsive on the floor.  He had to stay in the hospital for eight days after that, so Mace doesn’t leave him alone anymore.

Mace paces for a moment before whipping out his phone.  He has an app that lets him monitor Capa’s heart rate and blood pressure.  It used to communicate with a bracelet sensor, but Capa once tore it off in a fit of agitation, and Mace nearly had a heart attack himself.  Now there’s one surgically implanted.  If the readings drop slowly, it means Capa’s calming down and it might be safe for him to come back inside.  If they drop suddenly and severely, it means Mace needs to get inside as fast as he can.

It’s still high, so Mace waits.  He keeps pacing until the readings stabilize, even though they stay somewhat above normal.  Then he cautiously opens the door and steps inside.  “Capa?”

"Mace?"

Mace finds him sitting on the bathroom floor, knees pulled to his chest.  He’s still crying, just slightly, but mainly he looks so confused.  “Did I yell at you again?”  His voice sounds small.

Mace nods, “But it’s okay,” he says.  He gets down and puts his hands on Capa’s knees.

"It’s not okay," Capa replies.  It’s not okay for him to take it out on Mace, it’s not okay for him to force him out of the house.  He can’t even remember.  He just figures he must have, because he can remember feeling hot with rage and Mace not being there.

"It is.  It’s okay."  Then Mace envelopes him.  He has to move Capa over slightly to do so, but Capa lets him without complaint.  Other times it’s as simple an action as trying to give him a hand up - Capa’s balance isn’t the best these days - and he gets snapped at for 'treating me like an invalid.'

Capa holds him in return, and Mace can feel him shaking a little.  His t-shirt gets wet where Capa’s face is buried against it.  He can see one of Capa’s _Memos To Me_ \- lists Capa makes to remind himself of things later - clutched in one of his hands.

"Can I see that?" he asks.  Mace likes to use them to monitor what Capa may or may not know at any point in time.  He also throws away ones with outdated information to help minimize Capa’s confusion.  Capa pulls his face out from where it’s hiding, wipes it, and nods.  He hands the note to Mace.

_Memo to me:_    
 _It’s not Mace’s fault._    
 _Buy your damn cereal.  You’ve been out for four days and you get mad at Mace if he gets it for you._    
 _It’s not Mace’s fault._    
 _You did the laundry on Tuesday._    
 _Your notebooks are in the top right filing cabinet._    
 _It’s okay for Mace to be in charge of your medication.  You said it was._    
 _It’s not Mace’s fault._

"What time is it?" Capa asks.

"Around four," Mace says.

He sees Capa glance at the sunlight on the wall to confirm that Mace means 4:00 PM instead of 4:00 AM.  He clearly doesn’t remember most of today.

Mace isn’t spiritual in the least, but he can’t help wondering at the ironic balance of things.  Capa is so smart, maybe smarter than anyone else on Earth, smart enough to save the entire world… and now his mind is being taken from him.  He used his mental strength to _restart a star_ \- it’s like he used it all up for that one herculean task and it’s gone now.  But that’s bullshit.  It’s all bullshit.  Capa’s too young for this to be happening to him.  They weren’t given enough time.

Beyond the immense confusion evident, Capa looks scared.  It’s frightening, having something like this happening to you, and more so to not be able to understand it.  Mace can’t think of anything to say, so he holds him tighter.  He’s scared too.  This thing is _taking_ Capa, in trickles, bit by bit, and at any moment it could take him entirely.  Capa could just collapse, set off the alarm on Mace’s phone, and it would be over.

Mace doesn’t want it to be over.  As much as they’re suffering, he has to have hope.  Sometimes Capa’s still just Capa, and Mace loves him, and Capa can love him back.


End file.
